


It's A Bad Bowl of Oyster Stew, Ducks - Not The End of the World

by DixieDale



Series: The Life and Times of One Peter Newkirk [9]
Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 17:21:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14698830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Caeide had learned a long time ago, some jobs just had to be done.  Sometimes the jobs were exciting, sometimes they were dreary, sometimes easy or difficult.  And sometimes?  Well, according to an old friend, sometimes they were like a bad bowl of oyster stew.  No matter, when it was necessary, you buckled down and got the job done, especially when those you cared about were depending on you.





	It's A Bad Bowl of Oyster Stew, Ducks - Not The End of the World

Newkirk and Olsen had been making a simple supplies run in Hammelburg when they were picked up in a Gestapo sweep of all men of their general description, thin, dark haired, young, able-bodied. No one knew what the Gestapo was looking for, or whom, but neither of Hogan's men had valid identification papers, the authorities having just switched to that new style paper, and were detained and questioned separately from the others. The underground had notified Hogan as soon as they'd heard, and Hogan, already wondering why the men hadn't returned on time, decided on a plan to rescue them. He called in the local underground unit to help, and was decidedly not pleased to see the girl, Caeide, with them.

Rene, the leader, was startled at Hogan's obvious displeasure and his harsh demand for an explanation, "we requested a temporary replacement for Louisa, who was injured a couple of weeks ago, and Caeide was sent to us from a unit near Paris, where she was just finishing up a different temporary assignment. Is there a problem? I have found her to be most efficient, and the Parisian leader had nothing but good things to say of her."

"No, no problem. I just didn't know she was still hanging around," abruptly, for all the world as if Caeide had been a stray cat found loitering on a back alley of Hammelburg. Rene lifted his brows at LeBeau, who just shook his head in warning, letting Rene know not to pursue the subject. There was just no question, Hogan did NOT like the girl, and LeBeau knew quite well why that was, but it was hardly something that would improve the workings of the group to bring to light.

Word had come down that a Gestapo General was to personally question the two men that evening, after he completed various meetings with the local Gestapo officers. By the time Hogan's plan was in place and ready to move, it was already drawing near the time. Since his plan called for Carter to impersonate the General at the meeting spot, as he had done successfully many times before, it was key that the General himself be delayed. Also, their contact inside the holding area said that both the men had been, how did they put it, somewhat damaged in the initial questioning, and would need perhaps considerable assistance in leaving. Well, it wasn't too specific, but it was enough to leave the whole team highly apprehensive of what they'd find. Caeide was playing a silent role, worried sick about Peter but maintaining a cool professionalism; this wasn't the time for anything else, and, she admitted to herself, she wasn't willing to play the 'feminine fool' that Hogan kept hinting to her that she was, though that was a much more polite phrase than the one he'd used.

When they reached Hammelburg, Hogan handed her a bag, told her to get ready, she was to keep the General from keeping his appointment. She looked in, to see a peasant blouse, long full skirt, shoes, a scarf to tie back her hair. She stilled, "I though maybe we'd just knock him out for awhile?"

Hogan smiled, with some satisfaction, "No, we don't want him to know he's been taken for a ride. This way, it'll just be a coincidence that there was an escape while he was, uh, amusing himself."

LeBeau was appalled at where the conversation was going, "mon Colonel, you cannot ask that of her. . ."

Hogan gave him an impatient wave of his hand, dismissing him and his words. "Well, Caeide, do you want to get them out of there, or not? Or is playing the 'good little girl' more important to you? There isn't time to come up with something else now. You need to waylay him NOW, as he's coming back from that last meeting, at the walkway into his quarters. Yes or No, but decide now."

LeBeau spoke rapidly to her in French, "Caeide, you are not a whore, do not turn yourself into one unnecessarily!" She ignored him, staring up at Hogan. She knew he was baiting her, had set her up for this, but the need to get Peter and Olsen out safely was too great for her to waste time on that.

"How long do I need to delay him?" she asked coldly. "How much time do you need to get them out and to safety?"

"We'll need an hour," then looking at her, up and down slowly, dismisively, he sighed, "but do the best you can, give it your best shot. Try to get us at least ten minutes, if you can manage that."

He turned and started to walk away, when he heard her whisper after him, "I'll buy you that hour. If I run out of inspiration, I'll just pretend I'm you." Yes, she admitted to herself, a thoroughly nasty thing to say to him, but she didn't feel any urge to apologize, not after he'd set her up like this without warning. He stiffened, but did not turn back around, just rejoined the rest of the group to put the rest of his plan into action.

She moved into the darkness of the alley to quickly change, and then, remembering her training, to pull on a different persona to waylay the German General. Gone was the efficient operative, gone was the just as efficient land owner; now a seductive Rhinemaiden eased out of the alleyway, and moved into position to waylay the General at the most opportune spot.

****

They had retrieved Newkirk and Olsen, both with some damage, but not nearly as bad as their contact had thought, thankfully; both were moving under their own power. Hogan directed everyone back to camp, but LeBeau and Carter argued, saying they needed to backtrack and be sure the girl was out safely. Newkirk and Olson looked at them blankly, "w'at girl?"

LeBeau was still arguing when Carter slipped away, with Rene following. He knew the Colonel would be angry, but it just wasn't right leaving her out there - they wouldn't have left any one else out there alone! Rene joined him, having more leeway since he didn't report to Papa Bear, and since Caeide was working with his team. Together they made their way to the General's quarters, in time to see her slipping out the slide door. They hurried to meet her, just to find her as she vomited into the alley, then again, then wiped her mouth, shook her head, retrieved the bundle of clothes, and started to change before heading toward the assigned meeting place.

Funny, Hogan hadn't mentioned the rest of the group would be heading back to camp without her, she thought wryly, when joined by Carter and Rene, who turned their backs while she made a quick costume change. The three of them made reasonably good time, and met the others before the tunnel entrance. The others had been delayed by the slightly battered condition of the two men; their own threesome had been delayed slightly by the girl needing to stop and throw up one other time, although she gulped and swallowed and forced herself not to do so again, since they were too near the tunnels and didn't want to leave any evidence outside.

Inside, the men were turned over to Wilson for care. Rene had sent his own team, other than the girl, back to their camp, though he had remained; there were undercurrents he thought he might need to understand if he was to work with Papa Bear again, and due to the proximity, most likely he would. Most were gathered together, although Hogan was talking to London on the radio, (and Caeide was off in one of the tunnels, throwing up in a bucket of sawdust Carter had quietly shown her to, a canteen of water at her side) sharing some not so good coffee when Carter asked Rene, "Will Caeide be working with you from now on?".

Peter spoke up sharply from the chair where he was being tended by Wilson, their medic, still recovering from the shock of seeing the girl here, "and what's she doing working with you now? She's supposed to be in bloody Haven, raising those bloody sheep, not dodging around Germany!" He wasn't placated when he heard about the 'replacement' story, but backed down and let it be, til Rene truly put the cat among the pigeons by saying, "and I doubt I could get her to stay now anyway, although she would be a most valuable addition to my team. I would not like to ask her to work another mission with Papa Bear, after he put her out to whore for him this time." 

Peter's jaw dropped and he looked up at Hogan with incredulous confusion, as Hogan came into the room just in time to hear the comment.

"Rene," Hogan started, angrily, but the underground leader broke in, addressing Hogan directly, "I understand you were not able to think of a better plan" (did he truly understand the insult he had just delivered to a man who everyone thought could ALWAYS come up with a better plan? Was it deliberate?), "but was that last really necessary, the insult? Telling her you needed her to buy you an hour by 'entertaining' the General was bad enough, but telling her to just do her best, maybe if she really tried, she could buy you ten minutes? LeBeau was right; she is not a whore, she should not have been put in a position of becoming one, and then insulted by you when she agreed to do what was needed in order to get your men to safety."

Peter's face had gone pale, and his eyes were blazing as he looked at Hogan in shock. Hogan was furious, furious and desperate; this was NOT turning out the way he'd wanted it to, though even he wasn't sure what he had intended.

Peter demanded, "Just what the bloody hell is he talking about, Gov?"

"Don't make a fuss, Professor," came the calm, and perhaps too detached voice from the mouth of the far tunnel, as the girl slowly moved back into the area. "As he said, it was necessary. After all, I received the proper training that year in London, didn't I?", with a perhaps somewhat strained smile.

Peter looked at her in helpless fury and in a loud voice, not quite a yell, since you didn't yell in the tunnels, not if you didn't want the walls to come tumbling in on you, or for that matter, a load of German guards, "you bloody well did NOT! Not on MY watch, that's for bloody well sure!"

"Of course I did, Professor," still in that calm voice. "From each of you, as I recall." as he gaped in offended astonishment, thinking of how hard he'd fought to keep her innocent that year, from others, from himself. The thought of that black dress came back to his mind strongly, how much of a battle he'd fought with himself, forcing him to leave her room that night after he'd yelled at her, scolded her, how drunk he'd gotten when he got back to his own flat, trying to forget how she'd looked, forget how his body had raged at him.

"From you, the lesson went somewhat like," and she related it in a recognizable imitation of his voice, "if you've decided the job 'as to be done, and you don't think you 'ave it in you, you look around and find someone who COULD do the job. Just borrow that part of them, like borrowing a suit of clothes, like a costume; put it on, tucking your own self in that little room where you put your feelings on a job; afterwards, just switch back, no problem, no fuss. Important thing is, the job w'at needed to get done, gets done."

"From Maude," she said, then switching to a voice like an older Cockney woman, "it's a matter of profit versus cost, it is, the bottom line, so to speak. If the profit is 'igh enough, you can afford to pay a 'igher cost."

"And you thought the profit was 'igh enough?" he snarled. She stared at him for a long moment, then looked at Wilson, "Hhow are they both?" Wilson replied quietly, looking at her, knowing where she was going with this, "they're here, safe. They'll recover." She looked back at Peter, with a tiny smile on her lips, but none in her eyes, and cocked an eyebrow at him.

Peter had gone dead still. "And from Marisol?" he asked in a strangled voice, "what did you learn from Mari that applies 'ere?"

She paused, seemed to gather herself in, and in a strong but feminine East End voice, "sometimes, no matter what ya do, it just goes all wrong, just loik a bad bowl of oyster stew, ducks. Only thing ta do is get it out of your belly as soon as you can, wash out your mouf, 'ave a stiff drink, and get over it. Not the end of the world, you know, as long as you didn't get your throat slit in the process."

Peter gulped, feeling sick, thinking he might toss up the coffee he'd just gotten down. He looked helplessly at the woman, woman-child of his memory, standing in front of him, with those indescribable eyes. She turned without looking at anyone else, without saying anything further, except to Rene, "let me know when you're ready for us to leave, Rene."

Peter started to get up to go after her, but was stopped by Wilson who was still trying to tend the new lash marks on his back. He started to pull away and go anyway, with Wilson protesting and Hogan ordering him to stay put, when Carter spoke up.

"I'll go, Peter. Don't suppose you have a spare uniform I could borrow first though? It won't fit well, but it may help me get in character," with a small unhappy smile. There were those in the room shocked at what the girl had said, more were shocked by what Carter had said, and the implications about what he had understood.

Peter nodded slowly at his young friend, "you'll 'ave to do without the uniform, Andrew, but I 'ave faith in you." He was frequently surprised at the depth of understanding his seemingly innocent and naive friend possessed. No one looked at Hogan, certainly not Peter. 

She had finished another bout at the sawdust, and rinsed her mouth with the last of the water when Andrew caught up with her. He paused, then touching her gently on the shoulder, guided her to one of the side tunnels, one with some deep chairs they used to house downed flyers waiting to make their way back to the coast.

"I can't do the accent, I'm sorry, and I'm way too short, I know, but I'm acting as Peter's shoulder right now, so just pretend, okay?" She stared at him, then her mouth started to tremble, and the tears started to fall, soundlessly, except for the occasional sharp intake of breath as it got away from her. He pulled her in close, carefully, like she was made of glass, or, maybe, like she was something precious belonging to a good friend but temporarily in his care, and she rested her head into his shoulder, her hand on his chest, and quietly wept her fill.

She'd lost something this night. She was not appalled by what she had done; it had been her only choice, and it was just a physical thing, not important, she thought, and Peter and his welfare worth anything she had to do, this and far more; she had just wanted this 'first' to be with him. It wasn't to be, and she knew you couldn't order life to your liking, but she still had the right to mourn what was lost. There had been another 'first' she'd lost the opportunity for, as well, last year, on that botched mission near Studtgardt; the way it was going, even if Peter ever came to her, and she placed no reliance on that, not anymore, she'd have no more firsts to share with him, she thought sadly.

The chair was a tight fit for both of them, but she rested in his warm, understanding arms til Rene came for her, her head nestled in the curve of his neck. She stood, Andrew stood next to her awkwardly (it was odd; he hadn't been awkward before, but that was when he was 'being' Peter, she thought, now he was Andrew again), and she kissed him on the cheek with a small smile. "Thank you, Andrew," and she left, without another word, with no message for him, no goodbye, til she turned at the last, looking desperately, pleadingly at Andrew, who nodded and said, "I know, I'll tell him."

She left with Rene without seeing anyone else in the tunnels, and when Louisa had recovered, and no more temporary slots needing to be filled, the Clan released her and she returned to Haven, to her bloody sheep. And in a quiet moment, in Andrew's lab, he did tell Peter all that Caeide had told him, even though she'd not used one word.

When the Gestapo General showed up at Stalag 13 later in the week, Hogan made sure Olsen and Newkirk played least-in-sight. No one quite knew where to look when they listened in to the conversation in Klink's office on the coffee pot in Hogan's office. Seems the General was looking for not only two escaped suspects, but also, off the record, for a young woman he had met in Hammelburg, but whom he could not locate, one it seemed he couldn't forget. Seemed she had quite captivated him.

Newkirk was looking sick, the more so the longer the conversation lasted, turning away to face the door as the General got more and more descriptive, Hogan not meeting anyone's eye, as the General described the girl and her 'innocent but eager and promising' ways in far too much detail. Talking about how, with a little training, she could be really quite talented. That he was pleased to have been her first, in that way, anyway, and he intended to be her first in a few other ways as well if he could locate her.

"And what is her name, General," asked Klink, "maybe I know of her, I do know some of the residents in the town?"

"Horman, odd first name, I thought, though perhaps it suited her, Robbisa, Robbisa Horman."

No reaction among Hogan's men til Carter repeated the first name slowly and silently to himself, then the last name, even more slowly, and snickered loudly, then swallowed a laugh, then had to leave the room, gloved hand pressed hard over his mouth as he continued to giggle. They looked at each in puzzlement til, one by one their eyes widened as they understood. None of the others dared to laugh, no one dared to meet Hogan's eye. It was such a small revenge she'd accomplished, but it was something


End file.
